


This Sickness, Love

by allonsytotumblr



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 11:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13763475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsytotumblr/pseuds/allonsytotumblr
Summary: Andreth is sick and Aegnor tries to help. They both repress their feelings with varying degrees of success.





	This Sickness, Love

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Эта болезнь, любовь](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13969245) by [Drunk Erzherzog (nealex93_17)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nealex93_17/pseuds/Drunk%20Erzherzog)



Featuring an amazing head canon by hello-from-valinor which you can and should read about [HERE](https://verymaedhros.tumblr.com/post/171031676257/elven-biology-idea)

 

* * *

 

It was winter, bitterly cold, and Aegnor was out walking to see Andreth nonetheless.

They were in each other’s company almost every day, too much, some would say. Aegnor had heard the rumors about them-that they were having some sort of affair- but Andreth did not care about them “It is not me that is hurt by the rumors anyhow,” she said when Aegnor mentioned them to her, after bursting out laughing. “I have managed to get myself an elf for a lover. I am envied, but you, they think that you have sunk to the level of a human consort when you could have had one of your own people. Most of the speculation must be about you, and why you would pick me. Not for political alliances, or riches-”

“Maybe for your beauty and your spirit, so different from elves, but no less great,” Aegnor had replied, thinking that many things could be concealed in joking.

“That is ridiculous, but speaking of looks, maybe you have chosen me because you could not convince any elf woman to have you. Are you considered beautiful for an elf?”

Aegnor knew that he and his race held a great fascination for humans, and he wondered if Andreth thought like that. He wanted her to be, thought she had never done anything to relate such. Maybe she was simply good at hiding it, but Aegnor would not have minded if she found him good looking. Maybe that was vanity, but even so. “What is your opinion?” He asked.

“But that is why I said, ‘among your people.’” Andreth answered. “I could say that looking at you is like looking at the sun, that my body is on fire every time you look at me, but-,” she held up a finger at him, “That would not be the real standard. All elves seem fair to mortal eyes, but what about to more discerning ones?” Andreth could and would argue any point, and well, so Aegnor told her that their opinions would be varied, and that he had never previously given much thought to the matter. _Previously, at least,_ he thought, returning to the present as he removed his hood and smoothed back his hair before knocking at Andreth’s door.

She answered, but after a much longer pause than normal. “You look-” Aegnor began upon seeing her, then trailed off. Terrible, came to mind, but that would be rude, and was not really true anyway. Andreth looked stunningly, disconcertingly pretty as always, but she also looked tired and pale, fragile. “Are you alright?” He amended.

“Oh? That bad?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “It is nothing, I just have a cold. Come in.”

“You are ill?” Aegnor asked as he stepped inside.

“No, I mean, yes, but not seriously. It is sweet of you to ask though,” she said, shrugging.

Torn between her first statement- she thought he was sweet, and her second, she was ill, how horrible- Aegnor said, “But you will be fine, correct? Illnesses are often worse in the winter, are they not and-”

“ _Aegnor,_ ” interrupted Andreth, stretching out his name. “I am completely fine. But if I do begin dying, you will be first to know.”

“Is there some- cure of some sort?” He knew battlefield  medicine, cauterization, tourniquets, stitching skin, how to treat wounds that could affect elves, but not _this,_ not how to help with illnesses. Not how to help Andreth. To be helpless in the face of her discomfort was infuriating.

“I wish that there was, but not really. Only rest and waiting for it to pass.” She paused, turning away from him to sneeze violently. “You and your perfect, never irritated sinuses!” She said without rancor.

“Well,” said Aegnor, thinking that she would be alright after all. “I wish you a quick recovery.” He reached out and patted her forearm as a gesture of comfort and good will, but her previously pale face flushed so violently that he took his hand away, not sure what he had done wrong, and hoping that he has not offended her.

“Oh please stay!” Said Andreth, and now it was she who reached out and clasped his hand. “I have not really gone out, because I did not want to spread this, but you, with your ironclad health! I want company, please?” Her fingers were hot, as they wrapped around his, maybe she had a fever, but they did not feel unpleasant.

“I will stay, if you will lie down and rest.”

“What is this? You are now giving me medical advice?”

“I know that rest helps with all healing. Now go and lie down, or I will leave you.” He only talked to Andreth this way. He had found that this was a mortal custom, to say sarcastic or rude things to each other when the two really were friends or had some romantic interest in each other. Not that they, or not that Andreth at least-

“Fine, I agree.” She went dramatically to her room and threw herself on the bed. The blankets were twisted like a nest, and she yanked one over herself saying, “There, done. My body may now heal itself, are you happy?”

“Thrilled.” It did not feel right to sit on the bed with her in it, but there were no other chairs in the room, so he sat on the floor, and luckily Andreth did not comment on this. “And what shall I talk about?”

“Anything, there must be something interesting in your thousands of years of experiences.”

“Hundreds only,” Aegnor corrected her, grinning as he so often did around Andreth. But she was right. He thought of Manwe and Varda, Finwë and Indis, Thingol and Melian. All lovers. These stories will not do. He was not going to sit in her bedroom, and talk about romances, even chaste ones.

“Tell me about Valinor,” said Andreth eventually, into his silence.

Valinor. It was hard to reconcile the sufferings he had seen in this world, with the bliss of that place. He had almost forgotten that it existed, even worlds apart, but he tried, providing Andreth with descriptions of it, and answering her questions. “And why leave?” Andreth asked, her voice turning serious. “Yes, I know the history, jewels and all, but but how? How could you leave a place like that for anything?”

After speaking about such length, he too wondered again. “It was not an easy decision. At the time, revenge was sweeter than comfort. I was very young and the talk of glory- so much to be gained- if I went.” And what had that passion gotten any of them in the end?

“To have lost all of that, never to return except in death, which is unnatural for your people. I cannot imagine how you must feel.” Andreth said, and Aegnor felt guilty, for he should be making her feel better, not the reverse.

“It is not as bad as all that,” he said. “My experience with these lands- these people, has not been so terrible.”

“Oh yes, my company is surely worth forsaking the Blessed Realm,” said Andreth, rolling her eyes at him.

Looking at the women lying on the bed, he thought of their friendship, and was inclined to agree with her. _Not so terrible._ The moment stretched on, and Andreth, expecting a response to a clearly joking comment, looked away awkwardly.

“Do you regret it? Leaving?” This was the first time that the question had been put to him, though Aegnor was sure that it had been wondered mentally and aloud behind closed door by many.  

Sometimes, sometimes yes, so intently that the longing was physical, a gaping hole of loss in his chest. But had he remained, he would always wonder what if? What if he had gone. If Aegnor had not he would have been separated from many of his kin and what would Valinor be like now? That realm could not remain happy. It would be a faded blossom, with empty houses and whittled families, and Mandos full. “It seems that if I had stayed I would regret it, and if I could go back, absolved of treason, I would regret leaving this place,” he answered.

There was too much of his heart in both places for him to live completely happily. He has left too much of it here, in Middle-earth, and with her. He should not have let this happened. He should have been more careful.

“I see,” replied Andreth, her voice trailing off, as she began coughing. It sounded horrible to Aegnor, like her lungs were tearing themselves apart, but, “I am fine,” she said, clearing her throat, anticipating his forthcoming question. “It sounds worse that it is, really.”

Aegnor nodded, but to see her in pain of any sort, no matter how small still grieved him. Her illness worried him so much because it was a reminder of her mortality and all the weakness that she must bear that he did not have. He hated the thought that he could do nothing, or perhaps he was not so helpless. A new thought occurred to him.

The Firstborn did not get sick, either from illnesses carried through air or food, or infection in wounds. It had always been this way,but after their contact with humans, the elves wondered why this was so, and why only they enjoyed perfect health. Eru had created them so that their bodies warded off all diseases, was the prevailing thought.

But to go further than that, their healers asked: if human could spread illnesses to others, especially through close physical contact, could not elves do the same, but in reverse? Could this be why patients of elven physicians recovered at a higher rates than those treated by their fellow humans? As far fetched as it might sound, this theory did seem to work unfailingly in practice.

Not for everything of course, they could not stop life threatening illnesses, or a patient could be too far gone, and elven touch could not close wounds, or major problems such as that, but through some blessing of their bodies’ chemistry, elves could heal minor human ailments.

Though this ability was widely used by their healers, it kept quiet outside of the elves, because they did not wish to be idolized, or blamed when their gift could not overcome some malady.

Physical touch worked the most effectively, the more of it the better: to embrace the person gave more healing than to clasp their hand, and the same with kissing. This too was a reason to keep it as a secret, because given the widespread human fascination and attraction to elves, it would not be wise to publicise that elven touch had healing qualities as so many mortals already were so enamored of it for- other reasons.

But why should he not use it to help Andreth? She, as a scholar of all things elven lore would be interested, and surely she would not mind being healed, nor the manner in which he could bring it about. There was a flicker of attraction on her part, Aegnor was almost sure of it.

As Aegnor brought up the subject, it seemed painfully obvious to him how outlandish this idea could sound but Andreth seemed interested and sat up, pulling her knees up to her chest, and said, “Magical healing, is there _anything_ that your race cannot do? You could sell that,” she continued. “And I daresay that you would have plenty of customers that did not even require healing but rather-“

“Yes, I am aware, which is why we do not tell others.”

“Still, you are passing up a fortune,” Andreth turned her face towards him and rested her head on top of her knees.

“So- would you like me to- I can, help you if wish,” he faltered, knowing that he did not offer only because he wanted to see her better, but because of his own feelings, tangled and confused.

“For no charge?” Said Andreth jesting again, seemingly not to pick up any duplicitousness, or maybe aware of it, and not minding a double purpose in partaking in this ‘magical healing,’ as she had put it.

“For free,” he returned, feeling increasingly nervous as she moved aside on the bed and looked at him expectantly. He sat, but Aegnor did not know exactly how to initiate things. While he had held the hands of patients and kissed their sleeping foreheads, to try to share this gift with Andreth felt awkward, because- because he was he was in love with her. There. He was loathe to admit it even to himself, but the fact remained, stubbornly existing, and lurking in all his interactions with her.

“So where must you kiss me on the forehead or…?” said Andreth, a curious patient inquiring about a procedure.

“On the mouth,” he said, looking down at her. They were closer now, she having moved towards him so their shoulders were touching. Trying to preserve his tone as that of a doctor, he added quickly, “If you would not mind, it would be more effective.”

Andreth nodded, did not hesitating but wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her level, kissing him hungrily, as if trying to pull health from his mouth. Aegnor responded, thinking that if she felt nothing for him, her actions would certainly differ. Her body, pressed against him, was hot, her skin overly warm, feverish, Aegnor thought again. She pulled away, much too soon, both for his liking, and for hers too it seemed. “One moment, my nose is too blocked to breathe out of properly,” she explained, out of air and after a moment moved towards him again.

His feelings were simply: love totally, but they were also complicated because… He moved one arm around her, his hand caressing her hair, and brushing the tip of her ear, which was round, not pointed. Because of that. Were she an elf, were he a human, it would be simple. They could wed. But as they were, mismatched races, there was so much between them.

This situation felt dangerously close to tipping out of hand, their hands, and lips and bodies against each other, and Andreth pulling at his shirt's lacings. Aegnor broke it off, gently. Andreth looked almost disappointed, and he hastened to explain that it would be more than enough to heal her.

“I apologize,” said Andreth, looking pleased and not at all sorry. “It is just- this stupid cold, I have been ill for a while, and I wanted to make sure that whatever healing I received worked.”

“I did not mind,” Aegnor replied, realizing at the same time that she was flirting with him, and that his statement could be taken as flirting as well. He felt dizzy and felt his blood burn as if he too were ill.

“Should I feel different, because I do not,” Andreth said, disentangling herself, smoothing her hair, seemingly unaffected.

Aegnor tried to clear his head with moderate success, and replied that the process usually take several hours to work. She should sleep, he advised. It would help, and it was already dark outside. He had stayed over long.

She thanked him and he left. Outside the winter air chilled his face, not reaching his burning heart.

The next day Andreth would visit him, announcing that she had been completely cured, asking more questions about this ability, and again joking that for elves to sell healing kisses and embraces would keep them in riches for eternity. Aegnor would jest with her, while thinking that though her petty illness had been cured, his love for her was too great an infection, and could not be so done away with.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and extremely long detailed comments about what you liked are super nice.


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